


Bullets

by dana_norram



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic Fluff, Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Love Bites, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Scars, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Sharing a Bed, Size Difference, Tattoos, ratings change per chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:20:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25002289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dana_norram/pseuds/dana_norram
Summary: A series of shorts on Helsinki and Palermo’s relationship (pre- and post-Golden Heist).Prompt 1: Who cooks?Prompt 2: Oddest place they’d have sex?Prompt 3: Who is the highest maintenance?Prompt 4: Favourite positions?Prompt 5: Dom/top? Sub/bottom?Prompt 6: Favourite romantic gestures during sex?Prompt 7: Who stays up late? Who sleeps the most?
Relationships: Helsinki | Mirko Dragic/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 70
Kudos: 68





	1. [SFW 1] Who cooks?

**Author's Note:**

> I have been writing some Helsinki/Palermo ficlets @ my [Tumblr](https://call-me-jerusalem.tumblr.com), inspired by a list of shipping headcanons. I’m enjoying it a lot, so I decided to edit the ones I have already finished and post them over here as well. Some are pretty silly some are way horny. Quality (and ratings) may vary.
> 
> Eternal thanks to my dear [fedorah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fedorah/pseuds/fedorah) for agreeing to do the beta thing again for me and spare you all from my unskilled use of ins & ons. Bless them. :)

(Requested by **lataku** , Rating G)

None of them are particularly brilliant when it comes to cooking, but they know their way around the kitchen.  
  
Martín is perfectly capable of following a recipe, thank you very much, it’s basic math and chemistry. Unfortunately, all those years between Andrés’ departure and Sergio’s arrival had pushed him into developing an unhealthy dependence on canned food, instant noodles and pre-packaged muffins. Martín still has the habit of picking up some of that stuff every time he does the groceries and though he knows Mirko doesn’t really approve of it, his boyfriend is gracious enough to never comment.  
  
Mirko spent half of his life between army rations and prison food, so he always prefers cooking something fresh by himself than eating anything processed. And maybe he does not bake bread or cooks a five-course meal from scratch, but he can make a decent basil pesto to go with pasta, or, when he’s feeling homesick, a hearty bean and sausage soup. Since Martín will eat pretty much anything that’s put in front of him it’s never a problem. He always tries his best to do the dishes after. It’s only fair.  
  
They also have a nice collection of delivery leaflets on their fridge’s door. Martín always orders on his mobile, and Mirko always picks up the food at the gate, so his _pequeño_ doesn’t have to deal with other people.  
  
They make it work.


	2. [NSFW 4] Oddest place they’d have sex?

(Requested by **lataku** , Rating M)

Mirko and Martín had their fair share of messy hand jobs in dirty small bathrooms around the world, their moans barely contained by half-open lips pressed together. There was also the memorable occasion they made the ill-decision of spending the night on a desert beach in Florianopolis, Brazil.

Martín was on his knees, busy with his mouth on Mirko’s cock when they were startled by the presence of a huge-looking lizard. Fortunately, Mirko acted quickly and grabbed Martín by the back of his neck, not so different than you would do with an angry cat, and they avoided major complications. The lizard didn’t give them much attention and just went back into the woods while Martín let out a colourful string of swearwords that would make a sailor blush. It didn’t help that Mirko was laughing so hard he had to lean against a rock.

The oddest place they had had sex, though, will probably always be the Monastery of San Giovanni.

They fucked in Martín’s room most of the nights, but they also managed to christen the main bathroom, the herb garden, the cloister, the kitchen and, of course, the library.

The library was a beautiful, large, vaulted room, with thick stone walls designed to keep most of the noise out, and Martín would retreat there every time Sergio and his gang were being particularly loud. He didn’t really mind, though, when Helsinki tracked him down to tell him dinner was ready, and somehow he always managed to convince him the food could wait.

Martín particularly enjoyed being fucked hard against a desk where some fourteenth-century monk had almost certainly copied the Book of Leviticus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lizard story (minus the sexy part) is based on true events.


	3. [SFW 14] Who is the highest maintenance? Does the other mind?

(Requested by **dondeestaeldeseo** , Rating T)

Mirko always takes great care of his tattoos, and his beard takes forever to be properly groomed. Sometimes, Martín makes fun of him, though he secretly loves to entangle his fingers in the coarse hair because it makes Mirko _purr_. Sometimes, Martín helps by rubbing lotion on the intricate drawings on Mirko’s back. He’s got a new one recently, a beautiful design in the shape of Kenya’s capital, with a single agate stone set in the middle.

(It’s healing nicely now, but Martín still remembers when it was too raw to touch).

Martín still dreams of Andrés and there’s a part of his soul that seems irreparably, irrevocably broken. In those dreams, he’s back in his little flat in Palermo, watching the news of Andrés’ death for the umpteenth time. Sometimes, there’s a knock on the door right after and his dream-self wonders if he only answers it fast enough, maybe Andrés would be there, smiling because he cheated death, and they would pick up where they left off. He never makes it in time. His legs are made of lead, or it’s the door that won’t open no matter how hard he pulls. Usually, he wakes up breathless, tears in his eyes, trying to piece himself together.

(When Mirko wraps his arms around his body, not a word about his dreams, Martín almost feels whole again.)


	4. [NSFW 5] Favourite positions?

(Requested by **Anonymous** , Rating E)

Martín loves being in control.  
  
He also loves Mirko’s tattoos. He always appreciated art, but now that he can no longer see properly, he challenges himself. He closes his eyes and tries to distinguish the subtle lines under his fingertips, those chosen, planned scars. Mirko’s body is an art gallery he’s allowed to touch.  
  
Martín restrains himself most of the time, though. It’s a habit. It doesn’t matter how many times Mirko tells him that’s okay. But Martín doesn’t need permission now, not when he’s riding his cock, slowly, agonizingly so. Eyes closed, senses heightened, hands all over Mirko’s body, his belly, his chest, his powerful arms, a safety net in case Martín loses his balance.  
  
It’s easier to have all the control, he thinks, when you know it’s okay to lose it.  
  
Mirko loves watching Martín.  
  
He loves how his scarred eyelids twitch and his long eyelashes tremble, a single tear stuck on it. How Martín’s pink tongue licks his own lips as he fights and fails, moans after sobs. Mirko loves running his big hands all over his shaking thighs, so tense under the strain of Martín’s efforts to keep moving.  
  
Mirko only thrusts his hips up when he can no longer restrain himself. He grins as he notices Martín’s beautiful cock leaking bit by bit. He wants to touch it, but he knows he will have his chance as soon as Martín’s skin turns feverish, and his entire body begins to shake, both hands on Mirko’s shoulder, their foreheads almost touching, a barely audible plea whispered against his lips.  
  
He no longer grins as he finally reverses their positions, and cages Martín’s body under his. Mirko loves how much smaller he is, how easy it is to manhandle him into position. One of his legs on the curve of his elbow, his other knee pressing against his side almost too painfully. Mirko loves when he’s finally allowed to close the distance between their lips, and as he loses himself in the heat of his body, he drowns Martín’s moans with teeth and tongue.  



	5. [NSFW 6] Dom/top? Sub/bottom? Any switches?

(Requested by **Anonymous** , Rating E)

When Palermo and Helsinki started sleeping together, they only thought of each other as a means to an end. At first, they didn’t lose any sleep over the reasons for them doing what they were doing. Both were gay men in their forties, they had their fair share of sexual escapades, and they knew exactly what they liked (or didn’t like) in bed. Sex for them was not about figuring themselves out. They already knew where they stood, and they met in the middle.

Martín loved giving head, and he loved getting fucked. He enjoyed how much in control he could be when he was sucking his partner’s dick, fondling their balls, literally holding their pleasure in his hands. He loved riding their cocks as well, taking his sweet time, chasing his own orgasm without too much consideration about the body under his. He could top if the situation called for it, but it was too much work, and it didn’t give him the satisfaction he really craved.

Mirko craved intimacy. When you were a soldier and then a prisoner, you just learned how to appreciate the present and to accept what you are given for the time it was given. Mirko had many lovers he never got a chance to ask for their names or even to be around long enough to remember their faces. He loved having them in his arms for as long as he could, though, to bury himself in their bodies. He always made a genuine effort to give them all the pleasure he was able to, in any way that he could. He had his preferences, of course. Mirko never did mind pulling his weight.

Martín enjoyed being fucked by Helsinki, maybe a little too much. Helsinki was strong enough to carry him in his arms if he wanted to, but he wouldn’t do it unless explicitly told to. He was the perfect soldier, always ready to follow his lead, to touch him where he wanted, to give him what he needed, when he needed, for as long as he needed. It was comforting, it was, to be desired in such way. Martín had almost forgotten how that felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, the smutty ones are the longer ones. What does that say about me, I wonder.


	6. [NSFW 11] Favourite romantic gestures during sex/orgasm?

(Requested by **Anonymous** , Rating M)

Mirko only stops kissing Martín when he needs to breathe. Or when he wants to hear him moan. He thinks he has earned it. He had restrained himself for far too long. So many weeks in a poorly lit cell, on a bed fit for one, having to watch Palermo continuously bite his lower lip to fight back a cry, but forbidden to taste that precious sound. Powerless as Palermo wrapped a hand around their cocks, looked into his eyes and tilted his head just a little, exposing his neck so Mirko could mark him there if he wished.

(And Mirko did, and he felt strangely pleased with himself, as he watched the shades of purple fade away over the next few days, watercolours on canvas.)

When Mirko was finally allowed to kiss Martín, he hesitated maybe a second too long, and that’s probably why Martín kissed him first.

(He didn’t mind at all. It was never a competition.)

Martín does not mark Mirko’s neck if he can help it. He still remembers the ugly bruising left by the noose he might just as well have tied himself. But sometimes it’s hard to, sometimes Martín forgets. Mirko makes him forget everything else around him. Mirko had watched his lips without being allowed to kiss them for far too long. In the meantime, he learned how to play the rest of his body like a fiddle.

Mirko knows how to draw all sorts of embarrassing noises out of him, and he knows how to use every tool in his power, his lips, his tongue, his hands, his cock. His voice as well. It happens when Mirko stops kissing him and says his name, voice rough against his lips, when he feels Mirko’s forehead pressed against his.

Martín forgets everything when they breathe the same air.


	7. [SFW 13] Who stays up late? Who sleeps the most? Does the other have to force them to sleep/wake up?

(Requested by **Anonymous** , Rating G)

Martín only realises there’s a flaw in their plan three weeks after they moved into their new flat in São Paulo. Somehow, it never occurred to him that neither of them was used to sharing the same bed with the same person for more than a couple of nights. It was a very big bed, of course, but Mirko was a light sleeper and had the senses of a bloodhound.

It didn’t matter how sneaky Martín tried to be. If he got up in the middle of the night to drink a glass of milk, to take a piss, or to light a cigarette on the balcony, Mirko would just wake up every single time.

He never complained, of course. Mirko usually would go back to bed after checking up on Martín, not a single word uttered about it, but that didn’t make him feel any less guilty.

Now, when he wakes up at four in the morning, Martín just forces himself back to sleep. He ignores his restless mind, his twitching senses, his screaming bladder. Eventually, sleep wins him over, but the damage is done, and Martín only manages to wake up near noon to find Mirko reading on their huge sofa, tattooed legs tucked under his body, an empty cup of coffee by his side, so many hours lost between the two of them.

Martín feels his throat tighten when Mirko’s face lights up as he notices him fidgeting against a corner. He tries to smile back and mostly succeeds because Mirko doesn’t look mad or even annoyed by him wasting a whole morning in bed when they could be spending some quality time together. He doesn’t know how to deal with it, with the idea of Mirko not needing him by his side at all times.

Martín never learned how to love. He just made himself available, eager to be part of someone’ else life. An expert of turning art and dreams into nuts and bolts. Not for the first time, he thinks about going back to his pills. Anything to become functional, to become useful. He would never catch up otherwise.

“Did you sleep well, _pequeño_?” Mirko asks, startling him.

Martín blinks at the steaming mug in Mirko’s hands. He accepts it, holds that warm between his fingers. He breathes a little easier.

“I missed you,” he replies, not a single lie in his words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, this one is the longest so far and there’s no porn. I have been healed. Also, this is the last one for now, so if you have a chance to tell me what you thought about these shorts, it would make me very, very happy.
> 
> I have about fifteen new HC requests to write, but I’m currently working on a very long and demanding WIP, so it may take a while. You can subscribe here or follow me on [Tumblr](https://call-me-jerusalem.tumblr.com), to get the new ones first-hand. Or both. Both is good.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment/kudos if you liked it. :) You can also come yell at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/dana_norram)!  
>   
> There are still [some prompts up for grabs](https://call-me-jerusalem.tumblr.com/post/621667059412140032/), so if you want a particular headcanon about our favourite teddy bear and his tiny angry boyfriend, feel free to ask! Things will be up first on Tumblr, then here, once properly betaed.  
>   
> Title’s from _Bullets_ , a beautiful song by Tunng.


End file.
